His right butterfly wing spun through the air, fire burning at it. On his back was the seared stump of the wing oozing blood. He staggered to his feet... His head threw back as he plunged the light sword into the grass. Stalks sizzled.His blood boiled on my blade.“That’s right. Faeries can’t tolerate iron?” I drew a throwing knife in my off-hand. “And I have plenty of it.”He whirled around, face twisted in maddened pain, no longer beautiful. Shadows made deep crags, his eyes almost glowing in the. My fingers dug deeper into her ass flesh as my muscles contracted in delight. She was moaning louder now, her sounds prickling my libido, deepening my desire to please her, to have her. I heard wet slapping sounds as our bodies met. Her flesh rippled with each hard thrust inside. The table rocked under her from the impact of our bodies. Each motion, each sensation and sound, each willing surrendered gasp drove my desire deeper, stronger. Passion owned me like my cock owned her cunt, my cunt,. More

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